


A La Vita

by RemembrancerLirael



Series: Chance Meetings [4]
Category: Corteo - Cirque du Soleil, O - Cirque du Soleil
Genre: Drabble, Feeding a non-existant fanbase, Gen, Post-Corteo, The Corteo and O crossover no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemembrancerLirael/pseuds/RemembrancerLirael
Summary: The cortege has ended and the Dead Clown is weary. What else is there to discover in his angelic world? Perhaps he will find a new journey in the unlikeliest of places.
Series: Chance Meetings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864987
Kudos: 3





	A La Vita

To be an angel, the Dead Clown realized, was a frightfully boring profession.

In the aftermath of loss, the Giant found comfort by holding onto the one photograph the troupe had of his face. His large hand grasped it too tightly and the delicate paper began to fray at the edges. The Clowness would have none of that. She found a frame at the market, only slightly rusted, and placed the photograph at the troupe’s communal table.

The Dead Clown was happy, for a time, to bask in the glow of remembrance. He contented himself with watching over his friends and delighted in their laughter and antics. Those were the good days, the bright moments amidst the grey.

But there were other moments, too, moments when the family’s sadness over his loss was palpable. When the grief was too much for the Clowness to bear, he lay a ghostly hand upon her shoulder in comfort. He knew she could not see him but hoped she sensed him all the same.

Over time, they moved on. Even the Clowness rarely glanced at his photograph. The Dead Clown sighed but understood. Life was for the living, after all, and he was no longer part of them.

And there the boredom began. What use was a clown without an audience?

Exhausted by his loneliness, the Dead Clown realized he could not stay a moment longer. He turned one last time to glance at the Clowness’ beautiful face before mounting his bicycle and set off into the dark. The troupe had set their tent near a river that glimmered in the moonlight. That, he reasoned, was as good a choice as any, and he followed the river’s winding path out from the city’s glare and into the night.

It was in the dark that he found a new tent, one he did not recognize. Yellow and blue, lit from some unseen source of light, it beckoned from the dark, and he could not resist its pull.

At the door of the tent stood a hunched, aged man, scowling into the night. His scowl softened upon sighting the Dead Clown and he beckoned towards him.

“Welcome my friend,” bowed Le Vieux.

“You can see me?” stumbled the Dead Clown in surprise.

Le Vieux waved his hand as if ignoring the absurdity of the question. “Tonight’s show has already begun, but you are welcome for those that follow.”

Within the tent came an audience’s laughter, a once-familiar sound that sent chills up the Dead Clown’s spine. His eyes filled with tears. How he missed that sound. Recognizing the change in expression, Le Vieux clasped the Dead Clown’s shoulder and gave a reassuring smile.

“We have been waiting for you, as we wait for all performers that have passed on.”

“But how did you know I would find you? What if I were lost?”

“All paths lead to the water and all waters lead here,” shrugged Le Vieux. “You would have found us eventually, as have the others.”

“Others?”

“You cannot believe you are the only clown to have missed his audience, no?”

The Dead Clown sagged with relief as Le Vieux opened the tent’s door.

“Do not worry, my friend. We will find a place for you. Within my theatre, the show does not end, and the audiences always remain beyond the curtain.”

The Dead Clown smiled for the first time in far too long. He was home at last.


End file.
